


That's Not How You Flirt

by Sybariticfanfiction (SybariticReyna)



Category: Darksiders (Video Games)
Genre: During Canon, Gen, How many ships do I have to pioneer in order to be crowned emperor of crack ships, M/M, Minor Violence, Pre-Relationship, Reader just wants everyone happy, Ya sap, for now..., i can't take credit for this idea tho bc I've seen fanart, v good fanart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 06:16:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8700688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SybariticReyna/pseuds/Sybariticfanfiction
Summary: Both Draven and Death are bad at communication and the human is Frustrated.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Dear person who requested this pairing,, I'm sorry it took twelve years but on the upside I plan on writing more so... Thank you for your patience.

The realization hits you like a train.

It's so simple. How did you, the expert on all things Death, not notice sooner?

You had been wondering for weeks why he was so agreeable when you suggested returning to the Land of the Dead time after time to see your fellow human (albeit _dead_ human). Considering how fond he is of taking your advice otherwise, you didn't expect him to take the bait so easily. But when you say you want to visit the self named Master of Blades, he's down.

Now you finally understand _why_. He likes him.

You can see why, of course, knowing how much stock Death puts into good fighters and those with a sense of humor that compliments his own. Although you have noticed Death is a little less harsh with Draven also. He does the same for you, but you think that's because he's still not certain if your tears were real or fake the first time he threatened to leave you on your own if you didn't shut up. Death doesn't know how to deal with crying humans, apparently.

You watch the two of them spar from the staircase, bubbling with your new found realization. You smile is a mile wide as they continue the battle, Draven playing defense and throwing out tips while Death tries to perfect another move.

"The Land of the Dead is no place to be smiling," An all too familiar voice sneers. "And once again, I ask that you not come back with that Horseman." The Chancellor asks that every time, but he makes no actual moves to stop you from returning for tea (and training) dates with Draven. But he doesn't seem to be warming up either. He absolutely despises Death, and that apparently carries over to you.

Not Dust though. You've seen the Chancellor try to pet him before, only to be pecked at by the temperamental crow.

Dust is very picky about who he wants to cuddle vs who he wants to scavenge, and you are happy you're the former.

"Better?" You pull Death's... _Your_ cowl up higher, covering your mouth and nose.

The ghost huffs at you before returning to whatever he does, obviously displeased. Whatever.

You leave the cowl wear it is, appreciating both the change in scent and the warmth. The living aren't meant to be here after all, as the Chancellor is so quick to point out. You can't expect them to keep the temps reasonable for a warm body (Death is even warmer than you, but he seems unaffected by temperature changes). Speaking of which...

"Death!" You shout, "Where's my jacket?"

The Horseman stops to glare at you, "You left it with Crow Father."

"Why the f--" Your question is cut off by a squawk as Death is very nearly bisected. He for one looks very unamused by the sword now in his gut, while you feel a familiar sympathetic pain curl in your chest.

Draven just looks like he's trying to be reprimanding but smugness is winning out. "Your attention span leaves something to be desired, Horseman."

The fact that Death doesn't immediately stab him in return just proves your theory.

 _He has a crush_ , you cheer mentally, hopping down from your perch to stalk over to your... What are they exactly? Death could be considered a friend and companion, while Draven is... " _Draven_." You hiss. "That's hardly fair."

Your fellow human seems amused by your scolding as he allows Death to take the handle of his sword. "You what they say, all's fair in--

"Love and war." You finish with him, rolling your eyes.

Death removes the sword swiftly, and if not for the stiffness in his shoulders, you wouldn't have known he's in pain. That damn mask makes it much harder for you to know how he's feeling, but thankfully he's very obvious with his body language. Which, you and Draven agree, must be a nephilim thing. The Makers and angels are also that way, while demons seem be to just as good at deceit as humans.

The Horseman snorts when you move to put pressure on the wound (you have specific articles of clothing Death has "outgrown" just for this purpose), and if not for the sight of his blood tying your stomach in knots, you would've made some snarky comment about how Despair makes that very same sound.

"That's unnecessary."

"Shut it." You snip. "What did I say about fatal injuries, Draven?"

He rolls his eyes. "He's a Horseman. You can't keep measuring him on a human scale, love." As always, the "love" bit makes you want to bury your face in your hands, if only to hide the ridiculous grin. As happy you are to hear him slipping back into his English speech patterns, you wish he'd cut your protective instincts some slack. Death is your friend and you're allowed to care about his safety, dammit.

"You're both horrible." You grumble, keeping your gaze locked on the knitting skin beneath your fingertips. They're horrible and they deserve each other. You feel rather than see them exchange a Look over your head, prompting a chorus of laughter that makes your heart skip. How dare they sound so happy about getting under your skin.

"Distractions aside," A heavy hand lands on your head, "You did well, as always. Keep it up and you'll have no reason to come back."

"I can think of a few reasons." Death responds. The tone in his voice shifts enough to you to narrow your eyes, wondering...

"Don't get soft on me now, Death." Draven using Death's name instead of "Horseman" strikes you as odd.

You slowly remove your hands from Death's person as they continue their chat, hoping to slip away unnoticed.

Only for Death's heavy hand to land on your shoulder. He glances down at you curiously, "Where do you think you're going?"

"To go find a jacket." You respond, maybe a little too quickly. His eyes narrow.

"You're fine."

"Well, yeah but.." You mumble, just barely stopping yourself from making a borderline flirtatious comment. You are pretty damn fine. Maybe even the finest human there is.

Draven looks amused when you manage to look up, while Death is just watching his expression as if he can't figure it out. Which, you assume is actually what's going on. Death isn't the best at picking up on subtleties.

You smile at the Undead warrior, glancing between the two of them meaningfully. While Death just looks even more confused by your shenanigans, Draven appears to immediately understand. He looks... Surprised, but not offended.

"Stop that." He says, no actual bite in the words.

Deciding this will need a more direct approach, you school your face into a worried frown and turn to the Horseman. "Death, you should really go buy a few more health potions."

Death doesn't seem to pick up on the decoy. "I'm fine. There is no need to worry yourself sick over my well being, human."

"I'm sure Ostegoth would like to see you anyway?" You offer.

He huffs. "If it will appease you." Although the tone is anything but agreeable, Death does leave you and Draven alone. You flash him your brightest smile as he departs, to which he responds with narrowed eyes.

You wait until you're sure he's out of earshot (even for a Horseman), to turn your attention back to Draven. 

"So what was that about?" He asks, nodding towards Death.

"Oh, come on," You roll your eyes. "Human to human, dude, are you... Interested in Death in a less than platonic fashion?" Are there worse ways you could've worded that? Probably not. Does it get the point across? Without a doubt.

Draven falls silent for a beat, searching your face. "Why are you askin?"

"Because I know Death better than anyone, and he likes you. I can feel it." You admit, smiling at the very thought.

Draven looks less than pleased, and for a second you have a pang of anxiety about spilling Death's crush. "I thought you liked him." Draven finally says, his voice laced with confusion.

" _What?_ I mean, yeah, but not like that. I just wanna see Death happy. And if you're pivotal to that, I want to help, ya know... Move it along." You explain with a laugh. _Besides, I'm mortal._

Your fellow human seems to accept that, but does give you (what you assume to be) a comforting shoulder pat. You respond with a pointed glare. Why do all your friends think shoulder pats are the way to go?

Despite your mild annoyance, you cheerfully rejoin Death as he chats with the goatlike merchant. Death hands you a few more health potions when you arrive, which you happily string around your waist. Can you imagine only having five health potions? for an entire dungeon? Fuck that, dude.

It's not as if the potions slow you down any either. Death chucks you back to the sidelines if you so much as think of trying to help him fight, and Dust is practically an alarm crow.

Said crow hops down from Death's shoulder onto your own while the Horseman chats with Ostegoth. You have to rebalance yourself before giving the cat sized bird his due pets. If you don't he starts getting less careful with the talons. You've seen him do the same to Death, but the Horseman is less than affected. Draven is too twitchy for Dust. He's always moving, either fighting or pacing or making gestures. You don't think you've ever seen that man stand still.

Dust squawks as you mull over Death and Draven's similarities and whatnot, obviously displeased with your lackluster petting. You murmur apologies as Ostegoth counts out the coins.

With that business concluded, and yourself unable to come up with any other reasons to dally, you give Draven a two fingered mock salute. "See ya, zombie boy."

"A course." He responds. There's a hesitance when he glances at Death, and despite him not seeing it, you hope he can feel the encouraging grin you send him. "Death. You're welcome back. Despite what that Chancellor says."

It might be a small step, but you'd like to think its a very good step towards something that'll make Death happy.


End file.
